Saturday, March 7, 2009

Creaking Boats and Roosters

Ahhhh it is almost or it is about 70 degrees outside this day. Wonderful air with a warm fresh breeze. All morning and still now in the background I hear roosters crowing, sounds of sporadic traffic drifting from a main highway which is about 1.5 miles down the hill fill the air.

The sounds travel up the hill to where where I live, through my privacy fence, into the courtyard and then into my open screen door.

My favorite sound this day is my courtyard gate creaking. It is so relaxing. The wind causing a gentle sway to the gate sounds exactly like a wooden boat on a dead ocean creaking with the movement of the water.

I just had to close my eyes and lay on my garden swing - smiling - taking in the creak creak of my fantasy of lying on my back in a wooden boat and floating upon the Sea.

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

A typical day

Up early at 6am feeling like someone beat me with a bat - slept on the couch so I was closer to the restroom, as it feels like someone is twisting a knife into my gut

Stumble to bathroom avoiding the mirror but vanity overpowers me so I peek into mirror and my eyes directly go to my hair and i laugh as my hair resembled Medusa - the wild snake curls sticking straight up and growing forward from the back of my skull

I Slap a hard headband on my hair telling it to behave today - forget about the headache it will give me, which now that I wrote this I removed the band and yes it gave me a headache

I walk outside to the road and into the churchyard to escape the new puppies who are biting holes into my sneakers and ankle, and to breathe in the snow air. I see a stray dog who almost got hit by a car and is trying to follow a homeless man down the street.

I call dog, come here dog and homeless man hollers up the road to me, it's following me. I reply, she's not following you now. She's going with me.

Dog comes over to me with no collar and no tag, and I ask her where she lives. I say, dog where do you live? I call her Jack and call her Miracle but those are not her name, but she tells me she lives down the road, but she does not want to go home. She wants to stay with me.

I walk the dog to one house bang on the door, all still asleep, two house - door is open and woman points to the house across and down the street, and three is the ticket - dog is home.

Heard a huge bang and crash earlier from neighbor's property, on the way back up the road of taking dog home, I notice the neighbors carport has fallen on their car. I say to self, yes that is what that crash was and for some reason laugh.

This is the same neighbor whose dog bit me recently and they called me a liar although they stood there while their dog bit me, and watched the blood flow, the same neighbor whose huge Oak fell on my fence and they refuse still years later to fix the fence. Same neighbor whose pack of pits bark non stop, and attack children walking to and home from school - i could go on.

So for some reason I laugh.

Monday, March 2, 2009

Seat of the Soul

You've heard it before ...
the eyes are windows to the soul

Ut imago est animi voltus sic indices oculi

The face is a picture of the mind as the eyes are its interpreter

Last evening the husband I were snowed in and not feel like brain killing television, so we decided to spend several hours photographing each others eyes. We had so much fun, laughter and interaction capturing the love and life that connect us.

We are both believers in that laughter is music of the heart.

Les yeux sont le miroir de l'dme or again, The eyes are the mirror of the soul.

Untitled 1001

my eye was on the sparrow
she plucked it out and flew off
i placed a hand
over the hole in my face

and leaned sideways to find my eye
i walked this way a mile or two
only to see sparrow drop my eye
on the tar paved road

in which sideways i watched while
a semi truck ran it over


so i sat on the curb and allowed
a weeping to occur

i watched again sideways
as a line of red ants
as long as the great china wall
marched to feast upon my eye

carrying bits and pieces underground
and i heard as beetles munched on parts
of that sweet honey eye of mine
an old eye that has seen

it's not like i didn't know
that from earth i come and to earth i go

Author, Kare Sorenson - December 2007
taken from; "Untitled 1001 Poems of Wisdom", 2007: compilation copyright protected;USLC

Sunday, March 1, 2009

The Meaning of Found Objects

I have been quite bothered with the different interpretations of a 'found object' - and what i think a found object is. My thoughts are that it would include crystals from the river and creeks while hiking, or sea shells and other ocean treasure and such.

For a month i have been rolling around my mind what exactly defines a 'found object'. This morning i woke up with a clear mind, which in the mornings does not happen often these days. Well, a mind clear enough to make room for the ideas of what defines my question, that is.

So finally from Wikipedia i found what puts in words best my idea and reflects most thoroughly my thoughts of a found object :

"A found object, in an artistic sense, indicates the use of an object which has not been designed for an artistic purpose, but which exists for another purpose already. Found objects may exist either as utilitarian, manufactured items, or things which occur in nature. In both cases the objects are discovered by the artist or musician to be capable of being employed in an artistic way, and are designated as "found" to distinguish them from purposely created items used in the art forms.

"Found object" can also refer to a small object found by chance which, though usually of little monetary value, captures the imagination of the finder and is therefore kept as a keepsake. Perhaps it is a penny or an unusual stone or even a pretty piece of metal. Often found just "on the ground," it is kept as a curiosity or even a good luck charm. They are often associated with a trip or a special memory or an important time in a person's life.

The connotations of mystery about where it came from, the feeling that it is a lucky or providential occurrence, and the sense that it is simply a "free gift from the world" or "from nowhere" can add to the sense of wonder or magic surrounding a found object. A "found object" may stand alone or may form the basis for a collection."

And, then there is this:

When found objects are used as part of visual art works, the resulting works are referred to as found art.

Now i have a sweet light bulb on something so simple explode in my head and i find immense satisfaction that the song of a found object is written and filed away in my upper cabinets.